Challenging Vs. Challenged
The very first words in Scott Peck's book, The Road Less Travelled, are:
"Life is difficult"
The very first truth I want us to acknowledge, embrace and come to terms with as we start this journey to greatness is that the game of basketball is difficult. While certainly not the most motivational words ever written, this should allay any fears that we may have about being challenged. It simply means that the game is challenging.
Let us distinguish between the two words here:
Challenged: This suggests that we are lacking in the ability to deal with the circumstance or the situation we are faced with.
Challenging: This, on the other hand, paints a picture of a situation that calls for our very
extraordinary ability, that creates an opportunity for us to rise above ourselves.
Having said that, we must make a commitment to dedicate ourselves to the kind of mental and physical training that will enable us to rise to the challenge on every occasion. Here is the reason why: success is difficult but so is mediocrity and failure. So if all of life is difficult no matter what we choose, why not choose success? Why not attain the dreams of our lives? Now that it is stated here in black and white it makes sense, right? It is even fairly simple if you think about it, isn't it? So why doesn't everyone do it? The answer is even simpler: They don't know that they can.
I am going to challenge you all to dare to dream; to dream big; to dream beyond yourselves.
You have the raw, untapped ability to create an exciting, balanced and unpredictable future. Success, as proven by so many legendary basketball stars has nothing to do with bloodlines, income levels, intelligence, race, creed or even physical characteristics. We can let ourselves off the hook by justifying circumstances, events or even placing the blame on someone or something other than ourselves. We can also choose to be unstoppable.
I attended a Catholic boarding (all girls' school) in middle and high school. I played both tennis as a seeded player and field hockey. We lived for the hockey season. I had played since middle school and I dreamt of playing on the Varsity team for the longest time. To that end I ran cross-country even though I hated it. I drank milk every day and stayed away from sugar. I joined the varsity team as a Junior and proudly played my heart out. We won the National Championship and looked forward to coming back the following year to defend our title. We had an awesome team, a great nationally-acclaimed coach and a very supportive fan club.
At the start of the season of my senior year, Sr. Mary Owens, our principal, dropped a bombshell on our heads one morning at assembly. Our coach, Ms Cynthia Alubale, had been picked out to play on the national hockey team. That would mean she had to give up her coaching position at our school and leave immediately for training camp. We wished her well because it was a great honor for her but we were devastated by the realization that we would not play hockey that season. I prayed and prayed for divine wisdom. I may even have prayed, in a moment of weakness, that Coach Alubale would not join the national team. This is like Kobe refusing to join the NBA because he is dedicated to coaching high school basketball. I went around feeling miserable for about a day. Then, sitting in math class the next day, and obviously not concentrating, I got my "light-bulb" moment, as Oprah would say. I asked to be excused and I ran all the way to the Principal's office. I asked the secretary for a copy of the Hockey Handbook (the equivalent of the FHSAA Handbook) and read through the rules; then re-read them and read them one more time.
"YE.....SSSS!!!! There was nothing in there to say we could not enter the tournament if we did not have a coach. I asked to see the Principal and she humoured me. She listened to my passioned speech about how we would train and practice, pray and go on to win the national championship. Sr Mary looked at me and asked who would coach the team. Without hesitation I said I would. Incredible as it was, she agreed but on one condition, that if we lost the first three games she would withdraw the school. In that moment, we won the game. I called the team together that afternoon after school. We picked out my assistant coach and laid out our strategy for training and winning. In the following two weeks many of the players threatened to quit. We did not go out to the field even once. We sat in a classroom and wrote down why we wanted to play; we made commitments to ourselves and to each other; dedicated the team in prayer; reviewed our plays on the board to the point that we could have played hockey in our sleep. We ran with the cross-country team every morning at 6 a.m. and worked out every day after school. We asked the Track Coach to train us in explosive lateral and linear movement and rapid acceleration changes. We played an endless number of "friendlies" against the best boys' teams in the area.
The tournament started and we walked onto the hockey field for every game knowing we had won even before the game began because our desire to win knew no alternative. We played our best each time and had lots of fun because we knew it was not just about winning, it was about putting on an unforgettable performance. We were teenagers, we believed in ourselves, we had so much self-confidence we were absolutely unstoppable. The day of the National Championships dawned like any other but for us the sunrise was that much more glorious, the mist simply a blessing and the pounding of our hearts just the sound of music. The entire school of 800 students had a day off to come cheer us on.
We boarded the buses chartered by the Catholic Church, said a prayer for safety and we were on our way. We sang from our hearts as we rode to Nairobi, 52 miles away, giggling as only teenage girls do. We got to the sports complex and started our warm-ups.
I left the team for a few moments and walked up to Sr. Mary Owens and asked her this,
"Why did you agree to let us play even though we have no coach?" She said these powerful words to me:
"You have already been coached, you know the rules and the plays. All you needed to do was practice and build on what you already knew. The rest was up to how much you believed in your dream and when you came to me that morning you demonstrated that you did. All I did was give you the opportunity to live your dream".
With my heart bursting with feeling I walked back to the team and gave my last little pep talk and with that we exploded onto the field amid shouts and clapping from our parents, families, friends, school mates and alumni. We played a very tough opponent and at half-time we were tied at 12 points. Time for my little pep talk. The second half was a blur. The whistle blew to signal the end of the game.
We won! We won the National Championship by a 16 point lead. We won the title because we refused to let a detail such as no coach stop us. We won because we wanted to. We won because there were no excuses bigger than our dreams. We won because even though it was a hard road without a coach, it would have been harder not having the opportunity to play in my senior year; not living my dream. We gave it all we had and in return, we won it all. Not surprising a winner's attitude on the court or the field stays with you in class and everywhere you go. My desire for you is to develop a "Winner's Attitude". Grr...in the jungle a winner's attitude is the only option. Lady Lions, let's go for it!